


take note, it's not impressive

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Series: Fall Out Boy Fic February 2015~ [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bad Puns, Fluff, Forgive Me, Future Fic, M/M, dad jokes, this is so stupid omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:48:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘While I’m up, would you like some orange juice?’<br/>‘If it liked me back,’ Mickey responded, without missing a beat.<br/>Ian frowned. ‘What?’<br/>‘If it… y’know… if it liked me? If I liked some orange juice? Mutual respect?’<br/>Ian blinked. ‘Do you want a fucking drink or not.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	take note, it's not impressive

**Author's Note:**

> sad-monsters: Mickey being a total dad now with the bad puns and Hawaiian shirts thing goin on
> 
> a'ight, okay, as i said on tumblr - if you haven't seen that ask - dad jokes are a semi-foreign concept to me, seeing as i've never really lived with my dad and don't see him much. bad ~dad~ shirts, however, are not. me and my sister have had to talk him down from buying them several times. (stupid little half brother egged him on and kept making him pick the worst ones.) but yeah, apologies in advance if this is horrible.
> 
> with the theme: title from 'the kids aren't alright' by fall out boy~ (i'm just imagining ian saying it in a super "done" tone.)

It was subtle at first, and Ian wasn’t even sure when the fuck he started noticing it, but it seemed like the more Mickey paid attention to and took care of Yevgeny, he was becoming… more of a dad. Not just because of how he might actually be starting to _love_ his kid, but because he was doing dad things. It was like Mickey had gone to sleep one night, and woken up the next day with dad mode activated.

The first thing about Mickey’s new found dad-ness kind of jumped out and hit Ian in the face. Mostly because Ian came home from getting food with Svetlana, and Mickey was dancing around the front room with Yev, listening to Billy Joel. Well. Not listening to. Blasting. Ian and Svetlana had been wondering where the fuck that music had been coming from as they rounded the corner onto their street.

‘Mickey!’ Ian cried, trying to find where the fuck the music was coming from, seeing as the stereo was off. ‘What the fuck?’

‘We didn’t start the fire!’ Mickey sang loudly. ‘It was always burnin’ since the world’s been turnin’!’

‘Mickey –’

‘We didn’t start the fire!’ Mickey said seriously to Yev, who giggled and flailed his tiny fists in reply. ‘No we didn’t light it, but we tried to fight it!’

Svetlana rolled her eyes and said something in Russian that Ian didn’t quite catch (though he was sure he recognised “fuck” in there somewhere) and went off to put everything away.

Ian continued searching for the source of the music – a set of speakers with an iPod in it, which may or may not have come from a suitcase from the airport – and shut it off. ‘Mickey, what the fuck?’

‘Me and Yev were listening to some music,’ Mickey said, passing his son to Ian. ‘Weren’t we, Yev?’

Yev gurgled in reply and smacked Ian in the chin. Ian sighed and moved the baby to his hip. ‘Can you, oh, I don’t know, _not_?’

‘What? Why?’

‘What the hell even was that?’

‘Billy Joel. A study of events of the twentieth century.’

Ian raised an eyebrow incredulously at the other man. ‘Right.’

 

* * *

 

Mickey’s dad jokes and puns were the next things to appear.

It started when Ian and Mickey were sitting around playing video games, and Ian got up to get himself a drink. ‘Mick,’ he called back. ‘While I’m up, would you like some orange juice?’

‘If it liked me back,’ Mickey responded, without missing a beat.

Ian frowned. ‘What?’

‘If it… y’know… if it liked me? If I liked some orange juice? Mutual respect?’

Ian blinked. ‘Do you want a fucking drink or not.’

Mickey sighed. ‘Yeah, get me a beer.’

Ian rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen, calling back, ‘I hope you know how not funny you are.’

‘Fuck off, I’m hilarious,’ Mickey replied, yanking a sock from the pile of clean washing beside the couch, and balling it up. As Ian rounded the corner of the kitchen, Mickey threw the sock, hitting Ian right in the face.

‘The fuck, Mickey!’ Ian protested, jerking back from the flying sock. ‘You got me in the head!’

‘Correction, I _socked_ you in the head,’ Mickey grinned.

Ian passed him his beer as he sat back down beside Mickey. ‘What?’

‘Socked? Like, punched, but socked? Y’know?’ Mickey said, waiting for Ian to catch on. At his blank expression, Mickey groaned, ‘Seriously? Nothing?’

‘Absolutely nothing.’

Mickey huffed and nodded in greeting to Svetlana as she entered the house, with Yev in his stroller, gurgling happily.

‘We are having nachos tonight,’ Svetlana announced, dumping groceries on the table. ‘You two –’

‘Do we have cheese for them?’ Mickey interrupted.

‘For nachos? Yes, I think so.’

‘Okay,’ Mickey grinned, and Ian could _feel_ it in the air – there was another fucking joke coming. ‘But you can’t have any.’

Svetlana raised her eyebrows in way that said _“I’d like to see you try and stop me.”_ ‘And why is this?’

‘Because it’s nacho cheese!’ Mickey said triumphantly.

Svetlana rolled her eyes and ignored him, while Ian punched him in the shoulder.

‘Ow, the fuck, Gallagher?’ Mickey whined, rubbing his arm.

‘That was fucking horrible and you should be ashamed,’ Ian replied, going back to their game and unpausing it. ‘One more joke today, and I’m not sticking it in for a _week_.’

Mickey frowned, wanting to say that Ian would never last, but he knew that wasn’t true – he was stubborn as fuck and would stick to it without a problem. ‘Fine,’ Mickey grumbled. ‘No more jokes.’

 

* * *

 

‘We should get married,’ Mickey said quietly, as they were in bed that night.

‘Huh?’ Ian asked. ‘You can’t get married until you’re divorced from Lana.’

‘No, it’ll be beautiful,’ Mickey insisted, looking up at Ian with a happy smile. ‘Even the cake will be in tiers.’

Ian took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘You fucking didn’t.’

‘Oh yes. I fuckin’ did.’

‘No sex for a week,’ Ian said pushing Mickey off him and rolling over.

‘But, babe,’ Mickey whispered, crawling over Ian and jamming his head onto Ian’s shoulder, peering at him closely. ‘It’s past midnight. I didn’t make another joke yesterday.’

Ian turned his head and narrowed his eyes at Mickey. ‘You’re a sneaky little fucker, aren’t you.’

‘Yup,’ Mickey ducked his head and pecked Ian’s cheek. ‘Night!’

 

* * *

 

When Ian woke up, Mickey was still fast asleep. Ian had a feeling this would be his one reprieve from Mickey’s dad jokes for the day, so he enjoyed it while it lasted, before eventually rolling out of bed to get dressed and make breakfast. He got Yev from Svetlana’s room, fed and changed him, then dumped him in the highchair and gave him a plastic bowl and spoon so he could “help” with making the pancakes.

Ian hummed as he made up the pancake mix, and started pouring some into the hot pan, knowing the smell would wake Mickey up and he’d be here within minutes. Ian was, of course, right.

‘Mornin’,’ Mickey said sleepily, dropping himself into a chair at the table. ‘Pancakes?’

‘Mhmm,’ Ian nodded, turning around to put Mickey’s food on the table in front of him. ‘How’d you – _what the fuck_ are you wearing?’

Mickey grinned and gestured at the gaudy Hawaiian shirt, with its too-bright colours and ridiculous print. ‘Cool, right?’

‘Hideous,’ Ian corrected, passing him the syrup down from the cupboard. ‘You’re gay, Mick. Shouldn’t you have better taste than _that_?’

‘Dunno, man. I think it could grow on you.’

‘If it _grew_ on me, I’d shave it the fuck off,’ Ian muttered.

Mickey looked up at him, a surprised grin on his face. ‘I think you just joined my club.’

‘What club?’

‘Dad jokes and puns.’

‘Oh Jesus,’ Ian groaned dramatically. ‘Take me now and save me from this horrible fate.’

Mickey laughed. ‘Wanna check out my collection of shirts after breakfast?’

Ian wrinkled his nose. ‘Is that the worst one?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Yeah, alright.’

…which was how Svetlana came to find both Ian and Mickey in the living room, watching a movie with Yev, and wearing bad Hawaiian shirts.


End file.
